


Loved You Then, Love You Now

by Sutured_Sentiment



Series: Spideytorch Week 2017 [4]
Category: Fantastic Four, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mentioned Reed Richards - Freeform, Sort of Death, Spideytorch Week 2017, Time Travel, sort of, sort of??, spideytorch - Freeform, they didn't know they loved each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 05:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sutured_Sentiment/pseuds/Sutured_Sentiment
Summary: When Peter is sent back to a past life shared with Johnny, feelings are realized.All he wants is to get back home, to his own time. To his Johnny.Spideytorch Week 2017- Day Four: Through the Decades





	Loved You Then, Love You Now

    The world was a spinning rush of colors, all bleeding together as Peter was sent hurtling through them. Then suddenly, he was falling, his limbs flailing and hands desperately clawing for anything he could hold on to.

    His eyes flew open as he gasped for breath. His head throbbed painfully and he looked around frantically, finding himself in an unfamiliar hallway. He was standing in front of a large set of ornate doors. He looked down.

    “What the hell?!” He was wearing a full suit of shining armor; the kind you might imagine a knight would wear. A long sword hung at his side, sheathed in red. Emblazoned across his chest he recognized the image of a spider, it’s slender legs painted all the way down his torso. He gaped as his mind went blank.

    “Peter!” He looked up with wide eyes as a familiar blond came racing down the hallway towards him, a long, extravagant cloak billowing out in his wake. The other boy was grinning widely, his blue eyes twinkling.

    “Johnny?” The man skidded to a stop, raising an inquisitive brow.

“What did you call me?” Peter frowned while Johnny chuckled in amusement.

“That’s got a nice ring to it doesn’t it? Johnny. I quite like that. Shorter than Jonathan anyway.” Peter’s head was spinning as he stared at him incredulously. Johnny hated being called Jonathan.

“What’s going on,” he demanded. He watched as a strange look crossed the other’s face. Johnny suddenly reached behind him, fumbling with the doorknobs pressed against Peter’s back. Before he could react, Peter was being pushed through the now open doors. Johnny slammed them behind him and quickly pinned Peter to the wall by his metal-clad shoulders. His brain ceased any function as Johnny’s lips were suddenly on his own, moving smoothly as if this wasn’t the first time they’d fit together like puzzle pieces. His eyes were wide and he could do nothing but stand there as Johnny worked his magic. When the other boy finally pulled away, Peter was at a total loss. He hesitantly reached up and pressed a hand to his lips.

“What the hell was that?” His heart was pounding a million miles an hour as his brain was working on processing everything that was happening. What had he been doing before all this? He remembered fighting alongside Johnny in Queens, against some guy who had called himself “Time Lord”, and then suddenly he was here, wondering what drugs had been slipped into his morning coffee. He glanced at Johnny who was giving him a confused face. He flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little… overwhelmed right now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he apologized. Johnny rested a comforting hand on his shoulder; not that he could really feel it through the inches thick armor, but the gesture was there nonetheless. Johnny sighed, before taking his hand and leading them to sit on the plush bed across the room.

“I don’t want to add to your stress, but there’s something we do need to discuss,” he said gravely. Peter waited patiently for him to continue.

“Father is having me married to the Prince of Brooks.” Peter pondered the statement for a moment. Here, he and Johnny obviously had… _something_. For now he had to play the part of the crushed boyfriend; at least until he could figure out a way out of this. So he furrowed his brows and tried to look as distressed as possible.

“T-that’s horrible! How can we stop it?” He internally winced as he stumbled awkwardly over his words. Even to his own ears, he sounded fake. Thankfully, Johnny didn’t seem to notice and nodded.

“I don’t know,” he said hopelessly, and Peter felt something tug in his chest. He tried thinking back to every cheesy romance movie Aunt May had ever made him watch and said the first words that came to mind.

“Run away with me then. We can meet up tonight and be gone by morning.” He felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. This was all too much, and he desperately wanted to curl up into a ball and never have to face anything ever again. But he couldn’t, so he pushed through. He reached out and grabbed Johnny’s two hands in his own.

“We can find a little… village to settle down in; just you and me, for the rest of our lives,” he said, and deep down, he found a part of himself meaning every word. He swallowed thickly and averted his eyes. A gentle hand cupped his chin, guiding his face up to look into those familiar blue eyes. ‘ _Someone shoot me_ ,’ Peter thought despairingly. If possible, his face continued to grow even warmer. Johnny was smiling softly, and Peter was glad he was sitting down or his legs would be jelly by now.

“I would like that,” Johnny said quietly. Peter smiled and his heart seemed to soar.

“As you wish. Tonight then. I will meet you here.” And with that, their plans were made. Peter politely excused himself from the room to return to his “duties”. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he bolted. Finally, he found a secluded hall and slumped down against the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and sighing deeply.

After interrogating a few confused servants around what he now knew to be the castle, everything was finally starting to fall into place. Time Lord must have somehow sent him back to a time where he had lived previously. From what he gathered, he was apparently a knight here; or to be more exact, he was the personal guard to Jonathan Storm, heir to the throne. He guessed that somewhere along the line, the two of them had fallen in love and decided to keep it a secret. It made sense; especially in this time period of stone castles and royal bloodlines. He supposed it would be frowned upon; a lowly knight and the prince of an entire land. They made quite the pair.

With all that finally figured out, he needed a plan more than ever. He needed to figure out a way to fix this and get back to his own time. To his own Johnny. He had to make sure he was safe and that Time Lord could never hurt anyone ever again. Now the question was, how? For the moment, all he really _could_ do was wait for nightfall.

The time didn’t come quick enough, and he felt beyond relief when it finally _did_ come. He found himself excitedly racing through the halls to Johnny’s room, his sword clanking loudly against his thigh. He turned the next corner and caught a flash of silver out of the corner of his eyes. His eyes widened as he felt the biting pain of steel piercing his chest. He choked on blood as it gurgled up his throat. He looked down at the deadly sharp point sticking out his front before slowly, painfully turning to face his assailant. Despair pooled in his gut as he gazed into the twisted face of Reed Richards. The man’s eyes showed no hint of recognition as he pulled his sword out of Peter’s back with a loud, sickening sound. Peter’s knees buckled beneath him and he sunk to the ground.

“I’m sorry. But I must protect my kingdom. The prince cannot leave with you.” And with that, he was walking away, wiping the blood off of his sword with a rag. Peter’s heart clenched and he felt tears stinging in his eyes as he watched his friend leave. He felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him, threatening to crush him as he lay on the floor slowly bleeding out. He flinched with every painful beat of his heart, watching as the pool underneath him steadily grew. He couldn’t move.

“Peter!” He couldn’t even turn his head, but he didn’t need to to know who it was running to him. Johnny knelt beside him, grasping one of Peter’s shaking hands in his own. His other hand went to the still gushing wound just below his collarbone, hesitant to touch it. Peter could see tears streaking his cheeks, and he wished he could move to wipe them away. A look like that didn’t belong on Johnny’s face. He smiled.

“Hey. It’s okay,” he rasped. They both knew he was lying. Johnny leaned down, kissing each of Peter’s bloodied knuckles with trembling lips.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” Peter repeated his words like a mantra. Maybe if he said it enough times, they’d come true. He looked into Johnny’s eyes and knew they never would. It hurt something inside.

“Be okay.” He closed his eyes, a small smile still on his face, unable to hear the other boy’s sorrowful cries that followed.

Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned as the world slowly came into focus. He was met with the sterile smell of chemicals that could only mean he was in a hospital. Again.He mentally made his checklist. Painfully drab walls. Blinding white _everywhere_. The twisting tubes connected to his nose and wrist, indicating all the different machines he must be hooked up to…

His eyes flew wide open and he bolted upright, immediately regretting it afterwards as his vision swam and he doubled over clutching his head. He grinned anyway. He was back.

“Hey! Easy there buddy.” He whipped his head around, ignoring the intense throbbing. There he was, sitting in a chair next to his bed.

“Johnny… Thank god.” Said boy was eying him worriedly.

“You gave us quite the scare. The doctors didn’t think you’d wake up. You were in a coma for a week. When your heart rate suddenly dropped yesterday, we thought you were a goner.” His voice was shaking. Peter reached out hesitantly and placed his hand on his friend’s knee. He smiled.

“It’s okay.” He thought of the Johnny he had left behind, devastated. He breathed in deeply. He didn’t want history to repeat itself here. He stared at his friend. Maybe he would tell him everything later. Maybe they would have a chance to make it right, in this time. Maybe they could make their own happy ending.

“It’s okay.”


End file.
